Butterflies Used to Remind me of Him
by TheSIckestKidtoGlow
Summary: Hisoka and his lustfull creepiness showing as he makes another victim, a girl working undercover for the mafia inside the Spider's den


Butterflies used to remind me of him.

A fluttering leaf, shaking as a distant trail of wind reached it through all those rich canopies, standing out against that vast night's sky where the moon gleamed like a lost ghost through the dark, made me think of them – of the butterflies… of how they reminded me of him…

But now the sky, the moon and the rustling leaves all faltered, growing dim, falling back and forth from view and ending in a great brightness of blurred seams and scorching center. His tensed, large, hot muscles stretched and cracked, his skin rubbing roughly against mine, his fingers enclosing, squeezing my neck inside those unyielding hands. I moaned, breathing out the last amount of air my lungs would receive for the night… He smiled, chuckled gently, pleased, and squeezed harder, not completely decided to do so, only responding automatically as an arousal grew inside his blue pants.

I held his arms in my hands, trying hopelessly to move them… to earn the freedom my gasping breath desired… his eyes narrowed, the yellow iris bursting in pleasure while I slowly lost my grip with reality.

"The mighty…" he chuckled in a whispered voice, calculated to interrupt as little as possible the thrill he received from my weak moans "…The honorable Anne!" He pronounced the name in a mockery, and his sick, long smile stretcher further "…Squirming… dying under my effortless hands!"

Yes, I was dying… how humiliating was that? I was sinking deeper and deeper, gasping, moaning, occasionally squirming with the little strength I had left, while he sat on my legs, pleasurably squeezing my throat like a toy. If felt good not having to hold back, didn't it, Hisoka? It felt good to use as much strength as your worked muscles could gather, now you wouldn't have to answer for killing a fellow spider!

"Forgive me the presumption, my dear …" he laughed childishly "I fed the fantasy that you wouldn't go so quickly … What an absolute waste!"

His grip loosened, a hot load of air inflated my chest again – his cold lips brushed against my ear, whispering its collected sung voice into my stressed brain "If you keep up like this, you'll break my heart!" he chuckled.

And, once again, he sat straight, positioning both hands around my throat and squeezing with excruciating strength. His eyes narrowed, his lips smiled… his pupils looked up, now numb in the overwhelming kick of slowly strangling me to death.

During my time with them – during my time working undercover among the spiders – I had invariably ended up under him: I had been caught in a silent, dark, forgotten corner of the decaying building they used for a hideout, far where no one could hear us. He tied me up with his elastic aura, grew more excited by my different attempts to fight him back, eventually fucked me cynically, passionately, with full confidence that as soon as my body got used to the sting of his large member ripping into me, I would learn to enjoy it – meanwhile, his sharp-nailed hand held my lips shut. And though a distressed, shock-filled shiver climbed up my spine while he shoved hard and mercilessly inside me, it wasn't entirely a surprise that he would do so – my superiors had warned me he might: The degenerate Hisoka was known for lusting after mostly anyone who gave him a cross look; age and gender never taken into account. Those same lustful, twisted eyes followed me as soon as I joined the Phantom Troupe, they examined me as if they knew my secret, and their constant watch eventually instilled in me that his silence would prove itself costly. He made no effort to hide it from me or anyone else in the troupe that his sick intentions fancied me; he rather made it very clear, trough "jokes" and suggestions, that he would get me as soon as I gave him his first opening and strayed from the group, like a true, shameless hunter…

"Hi…so… ka…" I moaned through my strangled breath, like I eventually had learned to moan from being invaded by his enlarged member, by having my insides rubbed against the cold ring piercing adorning the tip of it… but in none of those times I had seen him finish. In none of them had he reached his climax, though I often did so against my rational will. Eventually, he would just stop, smile a cynical smile in response to my angst, and walk away as if he had had his fill of pleasure, without the need to go so far as to come.

…Now, under his hands, slowly losing my conscience inside those enclosed woods while the smell of wet vegetation blended with the one oozing from my coppery blood lost to the ground, I understood that it wasn't about needing it or not…

…It was about being able to.

Once more he let go of my neck; the air awakening my brain to the sensations around me again, the wound aching, life returning, though briefly. Hisoka panted gently, not because choking me was tiring, but because the excitement stole his breath away.

After a few second's pause, he resumed – the disturbing sound of my skin being squeezed sounding under his moaning voice, under his compliments to my beautiful performance, to the fantastic parting eyes he wouldn't tire of pulling back from near death, just to see them fade again!

My cover had been blown before I could execute a single order… before a single one of the spiders had been taken down! I had, specially, failed to kill the one that represented me the my biggest threat, the one that, worse than any enemy, daily built his sadistic child's interest on me: The one would _never_ lose a chance of killing me! Finally given the permission to kill me, Hisoka laughed, extremely content with the outcome of things, and not at all surprised by it… He suggested that I run with a friendly, warm voice… He promised he would hold back the other members until I had time to get far enough, and he kept his promise, but he didn't in any moment say he would do so out of kindness or sympathy, feelings completely alien to him… He merely did so to challenge himself, to make his hunt more entertaining.

Now, from the way his body shook, from the way giggles and moans filled the air as he smiled largely, from the way his muscles tensed, longing for more – more pain, more struggling, more agony! – from the way his predatory eyes lost themselves in that pleasure, I knew he could never come for anything other than death.

I knew, then, there was no other way for him to do so.


End file.
